Those Guys Again
by Simon920
Summary: The young lady from Just Some Guy is back.


Warnings: none

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**Please Note:** This is a sequel—triquel?—to Just Some Guy and That Guy Again.

**Those Guys**

So I've been working for Bruce Wayne for about six months now and I really like him even if he scares me sometimes. Golly, I don't mean that he's mean or anything like that. He isn't but he scares me, okay? He's my boss and he can fire me any time he wants to and there isn't anything I could do about it except maybe sue him and what chance would someone like _me_ have against someone like _him_?

I don't want to get fired—I like my job. Well most of the time I like it but sometimes I don't know what I'm doing and that's scary because Mr. Wayne expects the people around him to always know what's going on, even if they don't. He doesn't always know, either, but I think that may be why he has so many people working for him, so he doesn't always have to know. I guess that makes sense, doesn't it?

Golly, that sounds like he's mean or something and he really isn't. He's so nice and he's really generous, and he's especially nice with things like bonuses and vacations. Last month he took his personal staff—me and Mr. Fox and his pilot and a few others to his private island down in the Caribbean. It was work but it was a vacation, too; we got to swim and stay at his big house down there and it was incredible. I wasn't even sure what I should wear all day because we were working but everyone else just wore casual stuff and there I was in my work clothes. Mr. Wayne was so nice that he even said I should go to the big island and get some other stuff to wear and that I should just tell them to send him the bill. I mean golly!

A lot of people think that I'm his secretary but I'm not. He has secretaries; I'm his assistant. That's different. I'm more like his helper. I'm his assistant, that's what I do and I've never had a job that pays as well—I never thought that I'd ever make this much money and he even gives me extra money so that I can buy nice things to wear because he doesn't want the people working for him look like slobs or like they maybe shop at a Thrift Store, which I used to do to save money. Now I shop at some fancy stores like Macy's and I like it, even though it costs more.

Usually I work at Wayne Enterprises right outside of Mr. Wayne's office. I have my own office, sort of. It's really part of a big hallway which is also sort of a waiting room for people who want to see him. There are chairs and tables and things which are nicer than the things I have in my apartment. I answer his phone and let him know when he's supposed to be in a meeting or have dinner with someone. I write letters for him and I open his mail—not the special things that are private but there aren't many of those. I guess most of that kind of thing goes straight to his fancy house out there in Brixton.

His house—oh my goodness. I'd seen pictures of fancy places in magazines and on TV but I never thought I'd ever really be inside one of them. The first time I had to go there to drop off some stuff he was supposed to sign, gosh, I thought I'd trip or break something, I was so nervous. I drove up to the gates. There's a big wall around the whole property (which is like almost as big as Delaware or Rhode Island or something) and found the house number; it was this shiny plaque with

**'1 Brixton Road**

**Private'**

There was this sort of doorbell mounted next to the big closed gates. I pushed the button but I almost didn't because I thought it might give me a shock or something but it didn't. I was about to just back up and leave when this voice came from the speaker and asked if they could help me. I said who I was and that I was supposed to give Mr. Wayne something. The voice didn't say anything more but the gates opened and I drove through. I was a little afraid that they'd close on my car, but they didn't.

I drove up this long driveway. It's over a mile long, I checked on my odometer, and I finally came to the main house—it's huge! I knew that Mr. Wayne had a really big house but this was so big I thought that maybe I'd made a mistake and was at a hotel or something.

Anyway, I got out of the car and rang the real doorbell. A man dressed like a butler answered and said he'd make sure that Mr. Wayne got the stuff I had for him. I wasn't sure I should leave it but I finally did and I guess it was all right because no one said anything about my making a mistake about anything.

I guess that was when I kind of realized just how rich Mr. Wayne really is. I mean, I knew he was rich, but, gosh and then I found out that the man who'd answered the door really was a butler. A butler! Wow.

The first fancy dinner I had to go to with Mr. Wayne, oh boy, I didn't have any idea about much of anything so I asked his old assistant, Gloria, and she told me all kind of things I never would have thought of myself. Thank goodness for Gloria! Oh, I didn't go with him, I didn't mean that. I went so that I could take care of whatever needed taking care of. Me going with Mr. Wayne—seriously!

Some bigwigs from the French and Italian offices were in Gotham and so we were having this big 'evening' to make them feel welcomed and let them know that Mr. Wayne appreciated everything they were doing. Gloria told me that I'd need a good dress, a long one and that I should get shoes and my hair done and I should make sure that I made time for a manicure.

I'd never had a manicure in my life!

I took a couple of hours off and went to the big mall where they have all kinds of stores I never used to go to, Macy's and Penny's; well not to actually buy anything, I mean. Sometimes I'd go and just kind of wander around, looking until one day when this snooty saleslady told me not to touch anything, real mean like and so I never went back—until I needed this fancy dress. I looked at lots of things and finally found one at a bridal store that was really a bridesmaid dress but was pretty nice. I got shoes and decided to take it back to the office because I wasn't really sure about it. I didn't want Mr. Wayne to be embarrassed or mad or anything and he always notices things like what you're wearing. I guess that's because he has so many girlfriends and they're all fancy and rich and know how to dress for everything.

I took it out of the special hanging bag and I could tell that Gloria hated it. She was nice about it and said it was pretty but she didn't really think it was 'appropriate'. That's what she said. I felt really dumb but I really wanted to get this right so I asked her and she said that I should maybe return this and that she'd help me after work if I wanted and boy, did I. I was embarrassed but she was so nice that I didn't feel like I was a total loser, just like maybe I was new to this—and I was. I still am, I guess. We left work—she said it would be okay—a few minutes early and she took me straight to this real fancy shop that sold dresses by some company named Valentino and wouldn't even let me look at the price tags. Golly, I'd never seen anything like these dresses but Gloria said that this was the sort of thing that Mr. Wayne would expect and that I shouldn't worry about the price because I get a clothing allowance.

I finally found something I really liked and which fit really well. It was a really pretty dark green with some beads on it. The sales lady said it was something called silk charmeuse and that it was made to be danced in. Golly, I'd never felt anything so soft in my whole life and it was like it was just floating over me and I was afraid that it was too sexy but Gloria said that every lady there would be wearing something like that.

Me a lady. I almost laughed at that. I'm no lady, I'm just me.

I didn't tell the sales lady that it was for work. I think she thought that it was for some big date with my boyfriend but I guess it's okay that she thought that.

Then Gloria helped me find these shoes that she said were evening sandals and I just hoped that I could walk in them and I made the shoe store find me a pair that had lower heels, like maybe only three inches and I was scared about _them,_ for goodness sake! I just know that I'd fall down and Mr. Wayne would give me that patient smile he has on his face sometimes like he wondered why he hired me. I couldn't do anything stupid at that party, I just couldn't.

Anyway, finally I've been working for Mr. Wayne about a year now and he's really nice. Sometimes I see his son—though he isn't Mr. Wayne's real son, not really. Dick—he said I could call him that, though I feel funny when I do, even though he's nicer than Mr. Wayne and I've met him a few times now. He's the one who really got me this job—at first I thought he wanted, you know, he wanted me to put out or something but he's never tried anything. I guess he sticks to supermodels since he's so rich and I think he may be the most handsome man I've ever seen, but that's a whole another thing.

The other girls at work, they think that there was some hanky-panky going on for me to get promoted to being Mr. Wayne's assistant and they'd seen Dick stop at my desk and talk to me sometimes. There never was though, no funny business going on, I mean. He's just nice to me; he just_ nice_, period and that's all there is to it.

Besides, why would someone like Dick be interested in me? Sarah, that b***h from the typing pool has her opinions, but she's wrong. _She _might do things like that but_ I _don't.

She's a mean girl, just like in school. She's the one who nick-named Dick the 'Crown Prince' and I know he hates it because he always gets this funny look on his face whenever he hears someone say it about him.

Dick and Mr. Wayne, I think that they have a lot of secrets and I sometimes wonder if those stupid rumors are true, even though I don't think that they are.

I do think that there are things going on in their house they don't want anyone to know about but that just makes sense. Even I have things I don't want everybody and his brother to know.

And so that b***h, Sarah, from the old secretary pool was sitting in the cafeteria the other day and she saw me eating with Dick. I knew that she'd have something nasty to say and, boy, was I right. Later that same afternoon, after Dick left to go wherever he was going, Sarah stopped by my desk, which is pretty stupid since I'm Mr. Wayne's personal assistant and she's just a member of the typing pool, but she made up some excuse to be up on the senior executive floor. I was just finishing a phone call and there she was as big as life with that nasty-nice smile on her face.

"So I hear you and the Crown Price are an item; I also here his stamina is 'memorable.' 'That true?"

I didn't even know what to say, she's so awful, I just looked at her and thank goodness the phone rang so I could answer it instead of her and by the time I was finished she was gone and good riddance. But I noticed that a lot of people gave me funny looks for a few days and I just know it's because she was spreading lies.

I just _hate_ her.

But anyway, Mr. Wayne confuses me. Sometimes I'm sure that he's not too smart; he seems like he doesn't understand what his company even does or why all these people go there every day and what they're doing but then sometimes I see his face and it's like he's almost a different person. He seems like he sees everything and that there isn't anything that he doesn't understand. I don't get it, it's almost like he's two people.

Weird, huh?

I'm just glad that Dick isn't anything like that because he's so nice that it would be awful if he had some deep, dark thing he doesn't want anyone to know about. I mean a deep, dark terrible thing; I guess we all have secrets, right?

Anyway, so I was at the Manor again (and it's just bazaar to actually have a reason to go there and my brother's Honda looks really stupid in the driveway next to the Jaguar and the Bentley, but no one ever says anything or makes me park out back or anything so I guess it's okay). So, I was at the Manor because there was this big charity thing Mr. Wayne was hosting and I was helping with some of the details. Okay, I was mostly answering the phone and taking messages but that's my job so it was okay. I was in his study and he even let me use his own desk when I started to really think about how sometimes he's as dumb as a bag of hair (that's what my brother says) and sometimes he's like super smart.

I was sitting at his desk and he was off doing something and the phone wasn't ringing so I kind of looked around. There were all these big book cases around the walls and they were filled with all these really old, fancy books. I know a lot of rich people have books around just to make them look smart and to impress people who come visit so I figured that was what Mr. Wayne did.

But then I noticed that there was a book sitting on a table next to this big couch and it even had a bookmark stuck in it. I went to look and it was a book I'd never heard of, 'Paradise Lost' by some guy named Milton. I opened it (I know I shouldn't have) and it was really hard to read with all these fancy words and hardly any of the sentences even made any sense because they were so complicated and went in circles.

I don't know, maybe Dick was reading it or maybe Mr. Wayne used it when he couldn't sleep. I mean, I guess they're his books, he can read them if he wants, right?

Anyway, it got me thinking, you know? I mean, if Mr. Wayne is really this nice but kind of, I don't know, kind of slow take (like no one ever thought I was a dummy, I know but still, it's not like anyone cares about me the way they care about someone like Mr. Wayne, right?) but then he'll seem really smart for a minute or have a look on his face like he really has something like a computer in his head and he's analyzing you.

It's really weird, but sometimes it's almost like he's two different people and you're not sure which one is going to walk in the door or something.

I don't know, maybe he's bi-polar or something except instead of being really happy then really sad he's really smart and then really not smart or something like that. Maybe, right? Or maybe he's just smart about some things and not as smart about others, it could happen, I guess.

And then I got to thinking and maybe Dick is almost kind of like Mr. Wayne's father or something. Okay, that didn't make sense, I know he's not his_ father_ for goodness sake! I just mean that maybe Dick sort of looks out for him, makes sure that he doesn't do anything which would be a problem or make any big mistakes or something like that and I think I may even know why.

I mean why Dick would do that for Mr. Wayne.

Everybody knows that Mr. Wayne took Dick I when his parents were killed (and I think Dick is still upset about that even though he never, ever talks about it) and he's just really, really grateful for everything Mr. Wayne has done for him. It makes sense to me, anyway. Gracious, he even got adopted by Mr. Wayne and he's his heir (or that's what everyone says, anyway) and, just wow, you know? So Dick is seriously careful about Mr. Wayne so nothing bad happens to him and so I got to thinking some more when I was sitting there right in that big house and in Mr. Wayne's own study at his own desk.

Then things started to make sense even if they don't really make sense.

Okay, so Dick is really nice and he's super careful about Mr. Wayne. I've heard that Dick is learning to be a policeman and that's just so strange because he's super rich and everything and I know Mr. Fox has even said a couple things about how surprising it is. I maybe shouldn't say this, but I've even heard Mr. Wayne complaining about it and once he and Dick had an argument about it. They were actually shouting so loud that I could hear them through the office door. I know I shouldn't have been listening and thank goodness that there wasn't anyone else in the waiting room, but, golly!

So I started thinking like I said and then it hit me, just kind of smacked me between the eyes and it all made sense.

Dick is Batman!

I just know it, it all adds up if you think a little bit about it.

He's super smart, he's super athletic and he hates crime because of his parents and all. He could make sure his sort of father was safe all the time if he was one of the Superheroes, right? He lives right near Gotham just over the river in Brixton so he's close by in case he gets a call about some bad things happening. And he's super rich so he can afford all those expensive things Batman uses to fight crime, all of the special weapons and cars and planes and things because that stuff must cost an absolute fortune!

I think it makes a lot of sense even if my brother said I was stupid when I said something to him about it. Okay, I didn't really say I thought that Dick is Batman, I just kind of asked him if someone who was like Dick—though I didn't use his name—could be Batman. He just kind of laughed at me like he does all the time and rolled his eyes and laughed at me like usual.

I don't care, I think it makes a lot of sense and I think that I may be right.

I wouldn't ever say anything about it, though, I'm not that dumb. Besides, I don't want to lose my job because I really like it and I never ever thought that I'd be making as much money as Mr. Wayne pays me; he's really kind of sweet when he wants to be. He usually is, anyway. Sometimes he gets grouchy but usually he's super nice.

Stupid Sarah, the b***h wouldn't keep her mouth shut. I bet she'd run right to the newspapers or the TV shows and try to make some money if she thought the same things I do. I wouldn't ever do that, though.

Dick is super nice and I'd never do anything which could hurt him. I just wouldn't.

I know Batman has to keep who he really is a secret so he can be Batman so I'll just keep my thoughts to myself, as my mom would say. I'll just zip my mouth and throw away the key, but I bet I'm right.

I do.

4/30/11

6


End file.
